A Prayer Answered
by materia user at 221b
Summary: The Dark Lord has risen and has somehow managed to enlist the help of supernatural creatures. Not knowing what else to do, Albus Dumbledore prayed to God. He didn't expect God to respond. He definitely didn't expect God to send back a de-aged Sam and Dean Winchester to attend Hogwarts and help win the war. Set in book 5 of HP. Better than it sounds, I promise. On indefinite hiatus.
1. Another War?

**Author's Note: Hello! Here I am with another HP crossover fic. I just can't seem to get enough of them. For those of you that also have read my SherlockxHP crossover I SWEAR I'M NOT ABANDONING IT. I know there already a lot of Winchesters go to Hogwarts fics but I still think there should be more. When I write, I tend to use a lot of the headcanons I have developed by reading other people's stories so if there is an idea I have stolen from you, please know that it is not intentional and please message me so that I can credit you accordingly. Also, I try to be as accurate as possible when it comes to facts and characterizations, but sometimes I will slip up. Please let me know of any mistakes or inconsistencies that I have made. I am only on season 7 of SPN and most of the rest of my knowledge is from spoilers so I will make mistakes because of that. The HP area should be better but I haven't read the books in a while so I'm not sure. Just so you know. Also do the Winchesters still call him Chuck or do they call him God now? I don't know how they react to him anymore so I'm sticking with Chuck for now. That may change.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Harry Potter.**

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin (first class), Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and one of the most powerful wizards in the world was utterly, and completely, at a loss. Ever since the Triwizard Tournament and the revival of the Dark Lord, the situation had been steadily getting worse. Firstly, the Ministry refused to believe that the Dark Lord could be back. The media had been attacking him, and now Harry, too. Dumbledore could only imagine what the boy would have to endure once the school year starts again. His hearing was coming up in a few days and the incident has definitely not helped his relations with the ministry. Secondly, if he did not find a new DADA professor soon, the Ministry would appoint one, no doubt to keep a closer eye on him and Harry. Dumbledore sighed. Lastly, there were the attacks. Aurors had gone to investigate reports of witches and wizards being attacked, and identifying their attackers, only to find that they had been missing for weeks and were found, dead, miles away from anywhere they had any business to be. Despite thorough investigation, there were no patterns other than the fact that all of the wizards seemed to have disappeared within a week of the Dark Lord's return, and traces of yellow powder around the crime scenes. The whole affair was mysterious and extremely confusing. In all his long life, Dumbledore had never heard of such a thing and, thus, did not know how to stop it. The old wizard was not a particularly religious man, however, the situation was dire and it could do no harm. He did something he had not done in years. He prayed to God. Albus Dumbledore did not expect much from this action. In fact, he did not expect any reaction at all. He hoped – Oh how he _hoped_ \- with all his heart, but knew better to expect a miracle. What he _really_ did not expect, however, was, exactly 30 seconds after finishing his prayer, for a man to suddenly materialize in the middle of his heavily warded office, which is located in an even more heavily warded, unplottable castle.

* * *

Chuck had been proofreading a new chapter, when he heard the desperate plea for guidance. He wondered who it was. Albus Dumbledore. One of his creations that he was fairly proud of. Very long lasting. The wizarding world had actually been a spur of the moment decision and one he had come to regret numerous times. He had been particularly bored one day and the idea just popped into his head. In hindsight, giving magic to creatures who were not designed to handle it was not a great idea. At first, it was actually quite disturbing, like seeing Windows 10 on a CRT monitor. Just somehow _wrong._ After a few adjustments and fixes, however, it was at least manageable. Having them channel power through staffs and, eventually, wands rather than it just exploding everywhere had really made a difference. Right now though, the wizarding population was in turmoil. The Dark Lord was gaining power and the idiotic government was ignoring that and, instead, going after the one he had chosen as saviour. Chuck wondered why that always seemed to happen. His chosen ones always seemed to have rotten luck. Normally, the creator would have left them alone and let the situation resolve itself, however, Riddle somehow managed to enlist the help of some dark forces. Chuck knew that nobody in this time would be able to save the wizards, so he looked forward. Twenty years forward, in fact, to the year 2015 and saw two of his favourite creations who would be able to aid the wizards.

* * *

Sam Winchester had seen a lot. He had been infected with demon blood at the age of six months, had his girlfriend burn to death on the ceiling, literally been to heaven and hell, had seen his brother die over a hundred times, and had even been possessed by Satan himself. He had been raised into the hunting business, encountered creatures from any horror story, folk tale, or myth you could think of. Sam had seen a lot, but walking into the kitchen on a Tuesday morning and seeing God pouring himself some coffee is enough to make anyone pause. Chuck turned around and smiled at Sam.

"'Morning," he greeted. "Coffee?" Sam stared. After a bit he blinked and cleared his throat.

"Uh, no thanks. I'm good," he replied, shifting uncomfortably. There was moment of awkward silence where both parties stood and stared, waiting for something to happen. Once Chuck realized Sam wasn't going to continue, he sighed.

"Why don't you go get your brother," he said. "I don't want to explain twice."

* * *

Dean was not happy to be woken up, but soon they were all sitting at the table in the war room nursing mugs of coffee.

"Okay, so what's the deal?"

"I have a job for you two," Chuck said. "Just hear me out, but first, there's some stuff you need to know." He then proceeded to tell them about the wizarding world. Sam was surprised to see his brother listen patiently to the whole explanation. Usually, he would have been expressing how unbelievable the story was. Natural born witches? Schools for witchcraft? Sam supposed that the fact that it was God himself telling them this directly that gave credibility to the tale. Chuck then moved on to explaining the situation and why he needed their help. When he finished, Dean put his empty mug down on the table and took a deep breath. Sam was still trying to process what had been said.

"So let me get this straight," he said. "You want to send us to 1995 to help a bunch of natural born magic users fight against this Riddle guy, who hates non-magic people and has somehow managed to get demons and other supernatural beings on his side."

"Yes."

"Do we have a choice?" Dean asked, looking up at Chuck.

"I won't force you," he said with a soft smile, "but I really suggest you do."

Dean thought about it.

"Alright." Sam stared at his brother, shocked.

"Seriously? Just like that?"

"You don't think we should?"

"No, I just – I thought you'd fight it more. Let someone else save the world for a change." Dean just sighed.

"Who else is there, Sammy? Saving people, hunting things. It's our job. As much as I don't want to deal with somebody else's war, we can't just sit back and let it happen. From what we've heard, these wizards don't stand a chance. They're all relying on a kid to win the war for them. All because of some prophecy! Sam, you of all people should understand what that's like. Everyone telling you how your life is going to play out because you're some kind of _chosen one_. Telling you that you can't change a thing. That it'll happen no matter what because it's _destiny._ Think of the pressure that must put on the poor kid. We can't leave that alone. Not unless we want him to end up like us."

Looking at Dean, Sam understood why his brother had agreed so easily. Dean's protective instinct seemed to extend to complete strangers sometimes. The fact that this Potter kid's situation reflected some of Sam's own, only increased it. Sam took a deep breath. As soon as Chuck began explaining, Sam knew they wouldn't be able to let this one go. The amount of innocents in danger was enough to convince them.

"You're absolutely right," he said to his brother before turning to the other person in the room. "We accept. What do we have to do?" Chuck smiled.

"I have already spoken to the Albus Dumbledore, the man who prayed for my help. He is the headmaster of Hogwarts and the leader of an organization called the Order of the Phoenix. He told me that two things were most important. Educating the wizards about supernatural monsters, and protecting Harry Potter. The easiest way to do that would be having someone teach at Hogwarts."

"So we'll be teachers?" Sam asked.

"Not quite. When you get sent back, you will physically look like yourselves from 1995."

"What!?" Dean exclaimed. Sam did some quick mental math.

"I'll be 12!" Ignoring their protests, Chuck continued.

"You wouldn't have the magical knowledge required anyway. Which is why you will be attending Hogwarts as students." This seemed to shock the hunters into silence. There was a pause before Dean let out an incredulous laugh.

"And how will we do that? In case you haven't noticed, we aren't exactly magical."

"And that's where you're wrong. Sort of. There is an odd thing that occasionally happens where a non-magical child is born into a full blooded wizard family. Those children are called squibs. They have a certain amount of magic; enough to see magical creatures and not be affected by anti-muggle wards, but not enough to cast spells. If you track both your Campbell and Winchester lineage far enough back, you will find that many of your ancestors were unknowingly squibs, resulting in you both having an abnormally high percentage of dormant magical blood. I can draw out that power and amplify it so you will be able to access and channel it just any natural born witch or wizard." Both brothers took a minute to take in this new information.

"Okay," Sam said. "But how are we supposed to teach these wizards if we're students? Maybe some adults would listen if we could convince them we know what we're talking about, but a bunch of kids sure as hell won't take lessons from their fellow students."

"And that part is what I didn't want to tell you until you had taken the job on your own. I'm sure Robert Singer would be able to handle a teaching position."

"Bobby's dead."

"Not in 1995." The brothers froze. "I can give his 1995 self all his memories up until his death." At that moment, Sam and Dean's thoughts were racing, but one thought – the same thought – stayed at the forefront of their minds. _We can see Bobby again._

Once the boys had calmed themselves down, they began to think more about the detail of their mission.

"So what's our story?" Dean asked. "Are we just gonna show up there and they're expected to believe we know what we're doing? They'll have questions that the truth won't satisfy." Chuck nodded.

"I've told Dumbledore everything and he believed it, but that is probably because he heard it from me."

"Yeah," agreed Dean. "Hearing it from God himself usually gives stories a bit more credibility."

"If anyone questions you," Chuck continued. "Tell them about you being Men of Letters legacies. They held quite a lot of power in the wizarding government before they disappeared. That should give you at least a small bit of political sway and immunity."

They ironed out a few small details and, finally, there was one question left.

"What's the plan?"

"When I send you back, you need to go to Bobby's. I'll explain the situation to him and he should be waiting by the time you get there. Albus Dumbledore will contact you and lead you from there."

"Okay, so, for you to send us back, what do we have to do?"

"Just close your eyes."

* * *

Dean woke up feeling like he got hit by a truck. He tried to remember what happened. He was talking to God with Sam... _Sam._ He opened his eyes and, once his vision had stopped swimming, sat up. Dean froze as he spotted his little brother lying on the floor a few feet away from him. And when he said little brother he meant _little_ brother. Sam groaned and rolled over, giving Dean an even better look at his sibling's 12 year old form. While normally, Dean would leave Sam to wake up and get his bearings on his own, gone was the intimidating, giant, hunter Sam and in it's place was scrawny, twelve-year-old, not-even-had-his-growth-spurt Sammy. Seeing his little brother once again small and vulnerable lying there on the floor made Dean's overprotective big brother instincts kick into high gear.

"Sammy!" He called as he knelt beside his sibling.

"De...?" Sam muttered as his eyes fluttered open. After some confused blinking, they widened. "Holy shit," he whispered, staring at Dean's face, taking in every inch of it. Only then did Dean realize that he must look different, too.

"Guess we really did go back in time, huh Sammy?" Said brother only frowned.

"It's Sam." Dean just laughed.

"Dude, that didn't work on me when you were a 6'4" giant. It sure as hell ain't gonna work as a scrawny ass tween. You sound like one of those singing chipmunks. Bitchface is still the same as ever, though."

"Jerk."

"Bitch," Dean said as he helped his brother up only for him to stumble almost immediately. Luckily, Dean was there to steady him. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded. "I guess I'm just too used to being twice this size."

After making sure his brother wasn't going to fall over, Dean left Sam to try and figure out his limbs on his own and headed to his room to see if he had any of Kevin's left over clothes, because there was no way Sam was going to be able to wear any of his clothes now. Dean opened the door to his room and stopped. Because this wasn't his room. Not yet. He wouldn't find any of Kevin's clothes because Kevin never stayed there. None of them had stayed there. The Bunker hadn't been used in 37 years. So many things hadn't happened yet. So many people hadn't died yet. Kevin hadn't even been _born._ The apocalypse never happened and it never would if they – No. Stop. Dean shook his head. He'd been through this before on numerous occasions. Meeting his parents (both times), being death for a day, unsinking the Titanic (which Castiel eventually told them about at some point). Trying to change the fate never ends well. Realizing that there were no clothes to be found (fitting or otherwise), Dean headed back to the library to see how Sam was doing. Dean donned an amused grin as he watched his, now tiny, brother struggling with a pile of books a third of his height.

"Need some help there, Sammy?"

"Shut up," Sam replied, face hidden by heavy tomes. "It's just gonna take some getting used to, that's all." Almost immediately after the words left his mouth, Sam stumbled, almost dropping his pile of books. Luckily, he managed to right himself, but Dean's grin slipped into something closer to concern and went to help his brother out. Dean lifted half the books from Sam's hands and placed them on the table.

"What are these anyway?" He asked. Sam took a second to catch his breath before replying.

"Chuck mentioned that the Men of Letters used to have contact with the Wizarding World. I figured they'd have some books about it and, since we agreed to help these guys out, we should know what we're going to be working with."

"Okay. Grab what you need and let's go. We need to get to Bobby's."

"How, Dean? The impala's not here yet, remember?"

"...SON OF A BITCH!"

* * *

 **Author's Note: Sooo? How did I do? Sorry if some of it seemed long winded. There was a lot of information to lay out and it was hard to keep it flowing. I know I am completely ignoring the fact that John Winchester would probably freak out if his kids suddenly disappeared (they must have because I don't want two versions of them in the same time period) but I couldn't think of a good way to deal with that. Maybe next chapter I'll address it. Maybe. I usually don't like bringing dead characters back to life but I didn't want to have the Winchesters dealing with Umbridge the whole time. At some point they will but not yet. I could have chosen John Winchester instead but I figure it would make more sense for Bobby to secretly be a wizard. Anyway, please review. It helps motivate me and sometimes sparks ideas that help get past certain problems that I was stuck on. I'm sure I have made mistakes so let me know. Also, all of this makes sense in my head but it may not translate that way. Let me know if things need clarification. Thank you for reading, please review and I hope you continue to follow this story.**


	2. Bobby's House Part 1

**Author's Note: Wow I am so sorry this took so long to get out. I'm also trying to update my SherlockxHP story but I keep getting stuck. Plus school and responsibilities. Thanks to everyone that reviewed! It is honestly really encouraging to get that much feedback for one chapter of the story. I got a lot of questions about the time travel thing. Basically, I didn't want two of any character running around in the same timeline so I just put their minds and memories and stuffed them into their past bodies. It's a bit less messy that way. The rest of that should be cleared up next chapter. Im not that satisfied with this but to be honest it's mostly filler and info dumps right now. I just want them to get to school already!**

* * *

Dean was not having a good day. After being woken up way too early, he had been given another mission by God, had way too much information shoved down his throat, was zapped back in time, de-aged 20 years, and stranded in the Bunker with no food, no money, no clothes save for the ones on their backs and, worst of all, no _Baby._ His trusty 67' Impala was still with John Winchester.

Their father, while tough on the outside, was fiercely protective of his family and would not take it well if his kids suddenly disappeared one morning which, incidentally, is exactly what they did. Thankfully, it came up during their conversation with Chuck before getting thrown back in time and he assured them that he would take care of it. While the hunters would have been skeptical of anyone's ability to stop a stubborn John Winchester from dropping everything in search of his boys, it was God they were talking about. They just had to hope for the best. They had other matters to deal with. First, they had to get to Bobby's.

"Dean, calm down."

"How the hell are we supposed to get anywhere, Sam!?" Dean growled as he paced angrily around the library. "God can send us back in time, but he couldn't have sent Baby back with us?" Sam sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Dad's using the impala at this point. He probably needs it more than we do."

"But what about Baby from our time?" Dean asked, sounding every bit like the petulant teenager he appeared to be. "Why couldn't Chuck have just sent her back with us?" Sam paused. He thought for a moment.

"...Paradox?" He offered hesitantly. Dean stared.

"..."

"..."

"What the hell are you even talking about?"

"Look, I don't know how time travel works and I'm not even going to _attempt_ to understand God's will, but what I _do_ know is that there is a whole garage full of cars in this bunker that are ours for the taking."

"Those cars are from _at least_ 30 years ago!"

"As long as one of them gets us to Bobby's, it's good enough for me."

"...Fine."

* * *

"Quit it."

" _What?_ " Dean snapped, quickly glancing over to his brother before fixing his gaze back on the road.

"You're sulking."

"I'm not _sulking._ "

"Uh, yeah you are. So, Dad has Baby. Deal with it. She'll be waiting when we get back, anyway. I swear, just because you look like a whiny 16 year old doesn't mean you need to act like one."

"You're one to talk. Just because you look like a little bitch doesn't mean you need to act like a little bitch."

"Whatever, Jerk," Sam said as he turned to stare out the window. It was silent for a while before Sam spoke again. "So... Bobby's back."

"Yeah." Another pause.

"Pretty amazing, isn't it? I mean, I wished so many times just to see him again. And now that we're going to I- it just-"

"It doesn't seem real. I know." Something in Dean's voice made Sam glance over at his older sibling. Dean's face gave no clues as to what was going on in his head and, after a pause, Sam let his gaze drift back out the window.

"I guess... good things just don't really happen to us."

"Ain't that the truth." Dean said with a snort of derision. A tentative smile crept onto his face. "But... Bobby's back. So... maybe, just maybe... this time it will."

* * *

After a long, six hours of on and off bickering, the young hunters finally reached Sioux Falls. Just in time, too, seeing as the engine of the old car started sputtering right as the familiar sight of Bobby's house came into view. While still in fair condition, the car, which had belonged to the Men of Letters, had not been used or maintained in 37 years and Dean just managed to ease her into Bobby's driveway before the engine gave one last sputter and finally gave up. As soon as they were stopped, Dean got out of the car, slamming the door.

"See, Sam," he scowled. "Baby wouldn't do this to me." Said little brother rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time that day and let out an exasperated huff.

"I get that you miss the Impala, but seriously dude- Get over it! The important part is that it got us all the way here."

"Barely."

" _Dean_."

"Alright, alright!" They took the books, and a few weapons they found at the bunker, from the car and headed towards the front door, anticipation growing with each step. Standing on the porch, the boys shifted a little nervously. They were about to see Bobby again. They couldn't believe it. A living, breathing, Bobby Singer was somewhere just on the other side of that door. They shared a meaningful look before Dean took a deep breath and knocked.

* * *

 _Balls._ That was the first thought to go through Bobby Singer's head when he woke up in the past 17 years before his death. Believe it or not, having nearly two decades worth of memories shoved into your head all at once isn't a particularly pleasant experience. Especially when those memories were of the life and death of a hunter. Bobby was still reeling when God disappeared after explaining the situation to him. At least he wasn't alone. The hunter took a deep breath. He had to collect himself if he was going to be any help to the boys. _The boys._ He had a lot to explain to Sam and Dean when they arrived. He shook his head. Only those two trouble magnets could get involved in a war that had absolutely nothing to do with them. Frustration welled up inside of him at the thought. Those boys had done so much for the world already. Didn't they deserve a break? Despite that, Bobby couldn't help the joy that flowed through him at the thought of seeing them again. No matter what anyone said, those boys were as much his sons as they were John's. So, when only a couple hours later Bobby opened the door to an armful of preteen Sam Winchester and Dean grinning at them from the doorway, a tear may or may not have made it's way down his cheek. Once Bobby got a good look at them, he realized they had changed. They were both somehow older and younger than when he last saw them, but they were still his boys. And they were _here._

"Good to see ya, Bobby."

"Idjits."

* * *

Almost as soon as the door was open, Sam had rushed through and nearly tackled Bobby in the biggest bear hug his 12 year old frame could give. Dean couldn't help the grin that grew on his face seeing Bobby and Sam like that. The sight inspired a warm rush of nostalgia in him that really made Dean feel like a kid again, even if only for a moment. He had a good minute to drink in the sight before Bobby let his hold on Sam loosen and reached an arm out toward the door.

"C'mere ya idjit. You're part of this family, too."

Maybe it was his new found youth, but Dean didn't waste any time in closing the distance and letting himself be folded into the embrace. The three hunters were not usually ones for such close contact, but it was something they all needed right then, and all of them would hold onto the moment for as long as they could. Eventually, they broke apart and moved to the living room to discuss the situation and form a plan of action. First, though, Bobby owed the boys an explaination.

"Wait a minute, so let me get this straight. You, Bobby Singer, a hunter and a major contact for dozens of other hunters, who's job it is to hunt down supernatural creatures… you're a witch!?"

"Wizard," Bobby corrected. "Natural- born magic users are called wizards. Witch is generally reserved for the women."

"So," Sam said. "God sort of explained that there is a whole community of these naturally occurring wizards living right under our noses. Okay, but how? I mean, I'm sure _somebody_ must have noticed by now. A hunter, at least."

"Not exactly," Bobby explained. "I don't know how much you were told, but see, a long time ago, magic wasn't hidden like it is now. After a while, people who weren't magical – called a no maj, or muggle, if you're British – they started to get scared of the wizards. They lashed out. Witch hunts started happening around the world. That's when the wizard's decided to go underground for their own safety. They used magic to hide themselves and, over time, the non-magic folk forgot all about 'em. There's something in the wizarding world called the Statute of Secrecy. It was created to make sure both world's stayed separate from each other; to stop the witch hunts from happening again."

"Bobby, if these worlds are kept so separate then how did you become a hunter? Why do you talk like you're not one of them?" The old hunter sighed.

"I haven't been a part of that world for years. Y'see the problem with being separate from non-magic folk is that some wizards started to get big heads about it. They turned their own fear into some sort of superiority complex. Convinced themselves that they were too good for ordinary folk. What happens then is that you get a population of beings with more power than is good for them, no innovation or adaptability, and even less common sense. They're still stuck in medieval times. Little to no contact with the no-maj world over hundreds of years means that they have no idea about technology. It only helped feed the idea that non-magical folk are beneath them." During this explanation, Bobby had gotten up and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He sat back down I his seat and took a swig.

"The reason I got into hunting is the same reason I always told you. I never had to lie about that. Karen was a witch that I met when I was still at Ilvermorny. Once I heard about the hunting life I knew I couldn't just leave it alone." There was a long pause while the two young hunters digested that information.

"But Bobby, you kept that secret all this time? Why didn't you ever tell us? Does Dad know?"

"Idjit. We're hunters. Our job is hunting the supernatural. How do you think John would have reacted if I had told him? I'd have been lucky if he just dismissed it as me losing my mind. If you hadn't been briefed by God himself, would you have believed it? What would your own reactions have been? Of course I wasn't about to tell anybody." The silence after that statement stretched on as they all pondered the outcomes of those scenarios. It was only broken by the sound of a phone ringing. Bobby got up to answer it and, after a pause, held it out towards Dean.

"It's your father. He wants to talk to you."

* * *

 **Author's Note: How was it? Okay? Im not super satisfied and it's not as long as i'd hoped but I have the next bit planned so Maybe it will happen a bit faster next time but at least it's progress. Also, I don't really know how to write Bobby. I tried my best but I think there was too much explaining to get enough character interaction. I will try to do better with that. Were Sam and Dean OOC in this chap? I can't tell. Anyway, next time they talk to John and hopefully get across the pond. Please review!**


	3. Bobby's House Part 2

**Author's note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed and who is sticking with this story. Honestly, I started writing this for myself whenever I wanted a break from schoolwork but I'm glad so many people enjoy it. In my last chapter, I tried to clarify the time travel thing a bit but I still got questions. Users GinnySong and Banner brought up a couple good points that I figure I should address.**

 **Time travel: Honestly I didn't give much thought to this before. I wanted a crossover without making up my own timeline and without a massive age gap between the Winchesters and the Golden Trio. I figured the best way was to de-age Sam and Dean. The problem there is that young Sam and Dean are very different from current Sam and Dean. Their experiences make them that much more interesting so I decided to keep their minds their current age. Having God in the picture makes that easier. This causes timeline problems though, seeing as Sam and Dean didn't encounter wizards in their time. For now, let's just assume that God took them back in time and a little bit sideways to a parallel world where they did encounter wizards but their memories are still from the old timeline so they don't change. When they return to their future it may be their original timeline or the parallel one depending on whether or not I want to write a sequel. Either way, nobody outside the wizarding world is affected.**

 **John Winchester: This chapter deals with that.**

 **Hogwarts: Considering they haven't studied any magic they should be first years but that would cause all sorts of problems that I don't want to deal with. Since their purpose isn't to learn magic but to help the order, Dean is going to be in** **fifth** **year to be close to Harry. Sam will be in either third or fourth which will cause some commotion because he is currently tiny but he's a quick learner and mentally 32 years old. Placing him with 12-year-olds didn't seem right. This also allows him to go to Hogsmeade and possibly befriend Ginny and Luna.**

* * *

John Winchester was beyond pissed. The hunter had woken up to find both his sons had vanished overnight. John had no idea what happened but he was angry. He was also completely terrified that he didn't know if his kids were safe, but he channeled that into anger as well. Terror was no use. Anger was fuel. Angry at what, he wasn't sure. Maybe at whatever took his kids right from under his nose. Maybe at the boys if they had decided to run away. Maybe at himself for not being able to protect his family. Either way, whatever or whoever was responsible, they were going to get the full impact of John Winchester's fury. So, when the Lord appeared a minute later, he was bombarded by every weapon, supernatural and not, that the infuriated hunter could throw at him.

* * *

"It's your father. He wants to talk to you."

Dean took a deep breath as he lifted the phone to his ear. He had been dreading this. Chuck had said he would deal with Dad. Did it work? Was John going to storm over to Bobby's and try to take them back? How do you convince John Winchester to let his boys go? Dean tried to keep his voice level as he spoke.

"Dad?"

"Dean," was the gruff reply. John's voice didn't betray any emotion. There was a long pause. "You know, I didn't believe in God." Another pause. "I thought, God can't exist. He wouldn't have let all of this happen." Silence. " Turns out God is a massive dick." Dean let out a slight chuckle. He really was his father's son.

"Nah, angels are dicks. God is the father of all dicks. Literally." It was John's turn to laugh. The sound too tired to be genuine. "But really, he's not that bad. Just a father who made mistakes."

"A father, huh? I guess that's how he convinced me."

"Convinced you?"

"To not come after you boys until you've completed your mission. You know I would've. I was gonna drop everything to go hunt you two down."

"Dad, you can't do that."

"I know."

"You-What? Just like that?"

"We spoke, one father to another. He told me everything. About the future. About your mission. About you. It put things in perspective. You're not 16 anymore, are you? You and Sam are strong. If God himself has this much faith that you can do this, I guess I should too. Don't know how much I've missed, but from the sounds of it, the both of you are better Hunters than I am anyway. I'd try to go with you, but just like you have your job, I have mine. You boys have each other and Bobby. There are other people who can't protect themselves. That's my job. I've got to hunt so bad things don't happen to innocent people. So people don't end up like us. I've got to keep looking for old Yellow Eyes. But any sign that you boys are in trouble, I'm dropping whatever hunt I'm on and coming to help."

"Dad, we'll be fine."

"Listen, Dean, I'm going to trust that you know what you're doing and I know I don't have to tell you this, but watch out for Sammy. And be careful, you got that?"

"Yeah, Dad. Thanks. And you be careful, too. Hunts are even more dangerous if no one's there to watch your back."

"I know. Good luck with your mission. I'd better get you boys back in one piece."

"You will."

"Good."

"Okay, so what now?"

After Dean got off the phone with John, they had a quick lunch break and then spent a few hours discussing their plan of action and preparing for the trip. According to what Chuck said just before he sent them back, they had to wait for this Dumbledore guy to contact them. Since they had no idea when that would be, the three hunters busied themselves with gathering as much information as possible. Well, the boys did anyway. Bobby was the one doing most of the informing. He told Dean as much as he could about the wizarding world while Sam scanned through the books he brought from the Bunker, occasionally jumping in with a question of his own. That's how they spent the remainder of the afternoon. Bobby trying to fend of Dean's barrage of questions while also clarifying certain facts Sam found in his books. At some time around seven, Bobby decided that it was time for dinner. This was met with strong protests from both boys.

"But Bobby we have so much to catch up on."

"We can keep going."

"Who knows when the Headmaster will get in touch. We need to be ready."

"There's so much of this wizard shit to learn if we want to blend in."

"It's not even that late!"

"Stop whining and get yer asses to the kitchen ya idgits. I know you think you can run on empty, but don't forget: your bodies ain't as tough as you're used to. You're growing boys now and the last thing we need is you passing out from hunger because yer too damn stubborn to take care of yourselves properly. Now you're gonna take a break from all this for a sec and help me in the kitchen. Afterward, you can study all you want, but right now, it's time for dinner."

The boys begrudgingly put down their books and headed to the kitchen. After dinner, they cleaned up and the three spent the remainder of the night preparing. It was well past midnight by the time they finally decided to head to bed. Bobby said a brief goodnight and disappeared into his room. After a quick check that everything was ready for the next day, Sam and Dean also headed upstairs.

* * *

Dean woke up slowly, taking a minute to process that he was not in his own room at the bunker, but rather in Bobby's guest room that had pretty much belonged to him and Sam. After finally opening his eyes and looking around the room, Dean was momentarily surprised to see Sam still asleep in the other bed. He'd forgotten that he was the one who used to be up first. When had it switched? Usually, Sam had already gone for a run, showered, eaten breakfast and started on whatever nerdy stuff he had planned for the day by the time Dean managed to drag himself out of bed. Not that Dean had trouble getting up early. Hunters need to be able to get up and ready to go no matter what time it is. Any amount of time could be the difference between life and death, which is why, when not in any immediate danger, Dean liked to take his time in the mornings. He liked to savor the peacefulness before getting up and dealing with whatever problem fate decided to throw their way. He smiled as he watched Sam. Seeing his little brother sleeping so deeply made it easy to forget that he isn't actually 12 years old. When awake, Sam speaks and acts like his 32-year-old self in a much smaller body, but eyes closed and motionless as he is now, he looks every bit like the 12-year-old Dean remembers. Deciding that he'd had enough reminiscing for the day, Dean sat up and went over to wake Sam up. Then he paused. A smile grew on his face, this one much less innocent than before. He had an idea.

Bobby woke up to a commotion in the other room. The first thing he heard was yelling.

"DEAN! What the hell!?"

Dean's laughter could be heard clearly through the wall.

"Rise and shine Sammy!"

"Why can't you just wake me up like a normal person?"

"Where's the fun in that? Besides, shaving cream in the hand? It's a classic!"

"Where did you get the shaving cream anyway? Neither of us even shave yet."

"Raided Bobby's bathroom. Be glad it wasn't Nair this time."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Bobby sighed.

"Idjits."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Wow it's been a long time. Sorry this is so short but I wanted to post something at least. This was a bit of a transition chapter anyway. Things should start to pick up soon. They'll meet Dumbledore and probably the Order next chap so I'm pretty excited. I still have some trouble writing Bobby and John but hopefully, it's not too obvious. I try my best to keep my writing in character but if I'm not succeeding please let me know! Reviews are always welcome! I'm actually surprised at how many follows I've gotten with only two chapters but I'm definitely thankful. Feedback always makes me happy. So, until next time!**


	4. Not an Update - Sorry!

Hey guys I am so sorry to have to do this but this is not a new chapter. I've been dying because of school and had zero time to work on this. I'm honestly pretty attached to this idea so I don't plan on abandoning this story forever, but I have a lot of things I need to sort out before I can continue. Firstly, I am like two seasons behind in SPN and with the introduction of the British Men of Letters I need to take a sec to rethink the Winchesters' cover story and how much involvement the Men of Letters will have. Also, I need to find inspiration again. My drive to write this particular work has kind of died on me so I'm hoping that once I find the time to catch up on SPN I will be a bit more inspired. I also need to spend some time with Sam and Dean again to get their characterizations right. I was writing this at the peak of my SPN obsession so the dialogue came pretty easily but now I'm not so sure. Anyway, I just wanted to let you guys know what's going on with this fic and while I do still have plans to finish it eventually, I can't make any promises and so I am opening it up for adoption if anyone wants to continue it. Just credit me and give me a heads up first. Also, be warned that I may still continue it even if you decide to pick it up so there may be two very similar stories floating around. Anyway, thank you everyone who has been sticking with this story and reviewing. I'm sorry I couldn't give you a new chapter but maybe one day. See you then, friends!


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